rest | Nothing By The Book

It’s a lazy sunny Sunday and I’m resting. But expanding some energy feeling guilty about it.

I could — should — clean. The floors are hairy and I haven’t given the bathrooms a proper clean for weeks.

Or I could go out. It’s a sunny, relatively warm winter day. I could spend it in the mountains or stroll along the river in the city. Or I could call a friend I haven’t seen in a while, catch up over coffee. Or I could go to a coffee shot alone. Or run to IKEA — I’ve been putting off buying an extra shelf divider for my bookcase. Or I could, whatever, window show at my favourite thrift shop or used book store.

But I just want to be a cat, sit on my couch and purr in the sun. Binge watch a show — I’ve just discovered The Foundation. I could read the rest of the stories in Jorge Luis Borges’ The Aleph.

Or not even that — just staring out my window at the still sunny world outside sounds pretty good.

That’s all I want to do.

I’m a grown-ass, fully middle aged (when did that happen??) adult. I don’t owe anyone anything today. I don’t need to do anything — why do I feel guilty about simply being Why do I feel I need to do?

I don’t actually think there’s a second part to this mini-manifesto. You know the answer to the question I’m posing as well as I do. And telling you my take on it, well, it’s doing something.

I’m going to just be instead

Ha.

Small victories.

xoxo

“Jane”

I got a house of puking, snotty, feverish children over the holidays—Flora went down just before Christmas an barely made it through the Christmas Eve festivities, Cinder felt a tickle in his throat on Christmas Day and was down for the count on Boxing Day, and Ender woke up on the 27th puking. Today, Flora’s recovered but weak, and the boys are still fading in and out of consciousness between bouts of hydration and med top-ups.

And I love it.

Because, this sickness? I know what to do, how to help. Liquids and Tylenol to knock down the fever, Gravol and ginger for the tummies. Rest, baby. Have some tea. Let’s cuddle and watch a movie. I know, that cough is killer. Gargle with salt water, eat some honey.

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions, but I do like to set intentions. My intentions for 2020, as I’ve already shared, are to love more, play more, and also, rest more.

I am not so good at resting. And the secretly fabulous thing that happens when the kids—especially the little guy—are sick like this? I get to rest. I mean, there is all the laundry and tea making. But what they need the most—especially Ender—is for me to sit beside them on the couch and to love them. And so, I rest.

Wait.

Did I just say I want my kids to be sick more in 2020? No, no, no, no. Enough illness. Really.

Just…

More love.